CHAPTER TWO

"Talk DiNozzo." Gibbs ordered as soon as they were speeding away from NCIS. Swallowing hard, Tony looked down at his feet. It kept his attention off of Gibb's driving.
"A while after you, umm, retired, or whatever, the Director got a call from the FBI. They had an agent on the inside of the Maltese Crime Organization, Special Agent Lakota Jackson. She alerted them that the Organization had put out the word that they were getting some Navy contacts and were going to start using them to ship drugs and arms. So the Director decided to send me in undercover. Cody, sorry, Agent Jackson was able to get me in, and we've been undercover together for about two months. Then I got burned and had to pull out."
"And the FBI just left their agent in there you got burned?" Gibbs asked, incredulous.
"Yeah. I thought it was stupid too. And then, this morning, Cody called me."

"DiNozzo."
"Hey buddy-boy." Cody's voice sounded strained, nothing like her usual light hearted drawl. "Got a question for you, let's see if you pass. Who's my favorite actor?"
"Vincent Price." Tony answered, praying she would give the right answer, the answer that meant she was fine. Instead, she uttered the words that caused his heart to stop.
"Nope, wrong cutie. Humphrey Bogart. Better luck next time."

"Humphrey Bogart?" Gibbs asked.
"That was her 911 code, the code that meant she was in serious trouble and feared for her life. And she called me, instead of her team, which means she thinks, or she knows, that the leak came from them." Tony slid low in his seat and covered his face with his hands. "Oh God Gibbs, we have to get to her in time. I'll never forgive myself for deserting her if she gets hurt. I've seen pictures of what the Maltese Organization does to traitors Gibbs, and I can't let that happen to Cody, I can't!"

"You really care about her, huh?" Gibbs said.
"She's the best partner, and friend, I've ever had." Tony said seriously. "She's just perfect. She's smart and tough and sarcastic, and could probably kick my ass with one, hell both, hands tied behind her back. And she'd enjoy it too." Tony grinned half-heartedly. "She's never happy unless she's playing the piano or shooting at something. People work just as well as targets. She's quite simply the most unusual woman I've ever meet and she drives me absolutely nuts. But I can't help but like her and be drawn to her, and she has the way of just looking at me that makes me think she can see right into my soul."

He sat quietly for a while and then sighed. "I love her Gibbs. I can't let her die, I can't. Because if she dies, I won't survive. I know I won't. I'll be as dead as if the Organization had killed me." He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "What a time, huh? As usual, I pick the worst time for my feelings to get the best of me. Well, what else would anyone expect of DiNozzo? After all, according to Ziva, I'm incapable of being serious."
"You know that's not true." Gibbs said firmly, just barely avoiding looking at his agent. Good God, what had happened to the carefree investigator, who could go cold at a moments notice and then grin like nothing had happened? What had Ziva done to his agent?

Tony probably thought that no one had noticed, but Gibbs knew that Ziva was constantly belittling Tony, constantly on his case to 'grow up', and start 'acting' like an agent. What Ziva didn't realize, or didn't want to realize was the fact that Tony's entire 'act' was simply a mask. If Ziva had ever really stopped to think about it, Tony never got pissed off when he should have, never seemed to want anything from anyone, never asked for anything from anyone, and seemed genuinely shocked whenever someone actually expressed care over his needs or wants. The look of pleasure and shock in Tony's eyes when Gibbs had brought him a pizza in the FBI cell had shocked Gibbs down to his soul: Tony had looked like a little boy who had been slapped down so much he had stopped reaching out.

Now that he thought about it, Gibbs realized that's probably exactly what had happened. Gibbs knew Tony, while growing up rich, hadn't had the best childhood. There are people who just should not be parents, and Tony had had the bad luck to get those kinds of parents. The boy had probably been so starved for affection it was amazing he hadn't gotten into trouble and acted out. Instead, he had thrown himself into school and sports in a desperate bid for attention that he never got. Eventually it got to the point where Tony didn't know how to do anything less then perfect, but he was also used to never being recognized for it, used to always being ignored and shoved to the side.

So he had assumed a mask. A mask that told everyone that his life was fine, that he didn't need a thing from anyone, that he could take care of himself and didn't need or want anyone's help. The first time that Gibbs had seen that mask crack was when he had been accused of murder and locked in a cell. Tony had honestly scared him, participating in an interrogation of himself, and seeming to take it for granted that no one he worked with cared enough to prove him innocent. He had been shocked to see Gibbs, even more shocked a few weeks later when Abby had begged his forgiveness, begged him not to hate her. He was so used to being ignored and slapped down whenever he asked for something that he just assumed that no one really cared about him.

And Ziva had done whatever she could to reinforce that idea of Tony's, slapping him down verbally whenever he offered an idea that she didn't like, or tried to give an order, an order she was required to follow since Tony was senior field agent and she was technically only a liaison from Mossad. Gibbs frowned, and realized that he should have dressed Ziva down for that, loudly and in public. Instead, he had just sat back with a blank look on his face, and slowly watched his best agent become more confused and withdrawn by the week. Tony knew he was a good agent, but if no one else seemed to know then he couldn't know if he really was a good agent or if he just thought he was.

Gibbs had noticed that his senior agent had changed. He had become more withdrawn, more silent at crime scenes, offering only a 'On it Boss'. He was less likely to smile and was quieter and more serious in the bullpen, half-heartedly teasing Ziva until she left and then staying late to do paperwork. All of his paper work was caught up now, so Tony had started poring over cold case files that were still stacked on his desk every morning when Gibbs showed up. Gibbs had heard Ziva say that Tony had 'grown up some', and it broke his heart. If Tony had 'grown up', then all it meant was that he was withdrawing farther and farther away from everyone, and if it kept up, they just might loose him. He was at the breaking point, and if Gibbs didn't do something soon, Tony would completely collapse, physically and possibly mentally. It might completely destroy him: at the very least, he would never be the same. Gibbs couldn't let that happen, not to Tony, not to his Tony, his agent.

Gibbs shot a glance at Tony, and was shocked to see that his agent's mask had slipped enough to Tony's true eyes were showing. They were full of wariness and a hardness that was brittle enough to break at a cruel word or gesture. They were also much older than they had any right to be. Gibbs had seen eyes like that in the faces of POW's. They were the eyes of someone who had survived a living hell, but spent every waking moment constantly expecting to be thrown back into it. So he kept everyone at a distance, so that when they finally betrayed him and hurt him and threw him back into the hell he fought his way out of, that he could survive the pain and rebuild his shattered life. But it would be somewhere else, somewhere far away from NCIS, so that his past couldn't return to bite him in the ass and shatter his life once again. Because if it did, it might kill him. Hell, it might kill him now.

Gibbs also something else in Tony's eyes he had never seen in the young agent's eyes: fear. Even when he had been lying in a hospital ward, literally coughing his life away, gasping for breath between hacks that expelled blood, his lips and fingernails tinged blue because his body wasn't getting the oxygen it needed, Tony had kept the mask up, no fear in his eyes, just weariness and resignation. After all, no one really cared if he lived or died, why should he? But now, Tony was terrified. Because the one person, the one woman, who had the courage to slip behind his mask and love the bloody and terrified child she found there, who had the strength to chase away his demons, who had the stubbornness to refuse to let him keep her at arms length, and who had the ability to soothe his shattered heart and heal his mental scars was in danger. He was in danger of loosing the one person who had proved to him how much he meant to her, how much she cared about him, and the thought had him terrified. Gibbs knew that if they didn't get there in time, Tony wouldn't survive this lose, not this one.

Oh, he might survive physically, but mentally and emotionally he would be destroyed, he would never be the same. With that grim thought foremost in his mind, Gibbs hit the gas and sped up. They had to get there in time, because countless lives were in the balance. Not just Agent Jackson's, but Tony's, and the countless people he could only help, only find justice for, if he was whole and healthy and had the love of Cody to back him up and chase away the shadows.

AN: Okay, a little shorter, but I really wanted this to be a introspective, from Gibb's point of view, about Tony's mental state and a little bit about his past. And if you notice, Tony really doesn't complain about anything important, and when he gets hurt, he just shrugs it off. He never really gets pissed, even though he has had multiple reasons to get pissed. So, anyway, just tell me what you think. Cheers! (Not sure where that came from, I just felt like saying it.)